


my kiss goes down you like some sweet alcohol

by Maharetchan



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 11:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11690358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maharetchan/pseuds/Maharetchan
Summary: There's an empty Ferrari garage, two winners and beer.Post Hungary '17.Prompt: 34.  “I’ll take you against that fucking wall if I have to.”





	my kiss goes down you like some sweet alcohol

Kimi finds Sebastian exactly where he expected to: sitting on the floor of the garage, staring soulfully at his car with a mini fridge by his side that Kimi guesses must be full of beers he stole from the party. 

 

If Seb notices him coming in to join him, he doesn't show it: he stays still in the shadows, breathing very slowly as if he didn't want to disturb the air around himself.

 

It's a little ritual he has that not many people know about: once the race is over, the sweat washed away and the scent of burnt rubber has partially dissipated from the garage, leaving only a faint memory of it behind, Sebastian likes to go sit there for a couple of hours, usually in the middle of the night when he doesn't risk meeting anyone, to think.

 

He confessed it to Kimi one night, after Australia, while they were naked in bed together, high on the rush of a long awaited victory and on the wonderful afterglow of a good fuck: Sebastian's tongue gets loose very easily when he's happy. It's the silence that reigns in there after the storm that attracts him so much, that calms him down when the world around him becomes too frantic and loud.

 

Kimi understands far too well how he feels: and kept that information safely hidden in the back of his mind until now. He seems to have taken the habit of protecting Sebastian, whether the other asks him or not.

 

“People are looking for you, you know.”

 

Sebastian recoils from his apparent slumber state and looks at him, squinting in the half darkness of the empty garage: after a moment of confusion, he smiles fondly at Kimi as he slowly makes his way to stand next to him.

 

“Then I'm so glad you're the one who found me.”

 

Kimi allows Sebastian to take his hand and rub his face against it, placing a kiss on his palm: his skin is warm and slick with sweat under his fingers, and he sounds and feels drunk. His face heats up immediately when he drinks, coloring his cheeks with a subtle red flush that erases ten years from him in the span of minutes.

 

He sighs quietly.

 

“Tired already of your victory celebrations?”

 

Sebastian looks up to him, still holding his hand, and shrugs, abandoning himself against the wall with his eyes half closed, relaxing so completely that Kimi thinks he might be about to fall asleep right there.

 

Victory does look good on him, he thinks in passing as he's focused on looking at him, there's no denying it: he gets back some of that old boyish look from his Red Bull years, when he used to be so young, so maddening beautiful and always with an infuriating seductive smile on his face. 

 

“Too many people, needed a break.”

 

Kimi nods and then runs his fingers through his hair for a few minutes, reflecting on how he has seen Sebastian at his best and at his worst over the years, and that despite all of it, they still managed to stick together: two emotionally stunted idiots clinging to each other because the world around them is too ugly and unforgiving to be handled alone.

 

He unceremoniously sits down next to him, helping himself to one of the beers in the fridge, aware of the way Sebastian is looking at him as his lips wrap around the bottle: as to be expected it is some lightweight and tasteless German shit that he usually would never drink. But makes due in these circumstances. There are several instances where it's preferable to handle Sebastian Vettel while sober; this isn't one of them.

 

Sebastian abandons his head on Kimi's shoulder, slightly damp hair brushing against his neck as the other man makes himself comfortable: the garage is so quiet, so far away from everything and everyone that Kimi's eyes start closing as well, lulled into a trance state by the silence around them and the familiar and comforting warmth of Sebastian's body.

 

He's holding his hand again, his thumb gently running across the back of it: he thinks about Seb trying to do the same thing on the podium, giving in to that need for physical contact that overwhelmes him sometimes, when the emotions he bottles up inside are so intense that all he can do it shower the other people around him with unabashed affection. This time, Kimi allows it and allows himself to enjoy it.

 

“I'm sorry I fucked up your race.”

 

Kimi snorts at Sebastian's apologetic tone, passing his other hand on his face to wipe away the sweat: they would look ridiculous to anyone walking into the garage, holding hands in the darkness while drinking cheap beer and talking about their repressed feelings.

 

He shrugs absently, looking at the tip of his shoes, losing their edges in the shadows around them. It's hot there in the garage now with no kind of artificial ventilation: Kimi can feel sweat pooling on his back pressed against the wall, yet he doesn't seem to mind the feeling of Sebastian's body next to his own.

 

“Yeah, you kinda did. But it doesn't really matter anymore, does it? You won, we got our 1-2. Job done.”

 

Sebastian falls silent for a while.

 

“I'm sure a lot people're gonna say it matters a lot that I won just because you were there to help me. They're going to say that once again I didn't deserve it.”

 

Kimi sighs deeply, closing his eyes: yes, in his mind he can already see all the sensationalistic titles the media will come up with which stings almost as bad as his missed win, but it's the fact that Sebastian cares so much about what fucking strangers might think of him and about how badly they might trash him that drives him crazy and fills him with annoyance that hovers over borderline rage.

 

Sebastian starves for approval, has been doing that from the very start, seeks it like a heroin addict in full withdrawn syndrome: he wants to be loved, to win and feel on his skin the genuine admiration of those around him.

 

But it's a fucking ugly world: you can't please everybody, and the more you try to do it, the more you leave yourself vulnerable to all kinds of shit.

 

Kimi clenches his fists, letting go of Sebastian's hand.

 

“Well fuck them, they're gonna talk no matter what, even though they don't know shit. Did I want to overtake you? Yes. Did I want to win? You fucking know how badly I want to win. But trust me, I would've rather crashed into Lewis myself than let him overtake you to win a race. Does it suck to know I'll always come second? Yeah it does. But somebody's gonna have to watch your back so you don't fuck yourself up.”

 

Sebastian falls very silent for a long time: he has that incredulous expression on his face that looks comical no matter the circumstance, and he looks genuinely shocked to have heard so many words coming out of Kimi's mouth all at once. Truth be told, it shocked Kimi as well.

 

He usually doesn't feel like there is any need to waste so many words when he is with Seb, because they get each other so easily it's a relief to have him around and not being forced to talk. But it's always because of that closeness that words never feel heavy between them. He can be as blunt and honest as needed with Seb, and Kimi knows he'll understand.

 

After what feel like years, but are actually just a couple of minutes at most, Sebastian smiles, getting even closer to him to place a kiss at the base of his neck, then another one right under his jaw. Sebastian looks at him with dazzled eyes, wide and bright because of the alcohol pumping in his system, and Kimi feels the need to pin him down on the dirty floor and fuck him senseless until they'll both forget about all the shit happening just outside their door.

 

Sebastian sighs against the corner of his lip.

 

“Is it because you love me so much?”

 

Kimi opens his mouth to answer, to say what he's pretty sure he'll never know for sure, but Sebastian catches him first, kissing him hard, struggling to sit on his lap to get more contact without breaking the kiss. He tastes like beer, sweat and cheap food, and feels heavy on top of him. But Kimi doesn't give a shit, and holds him in his arms, licking his lips between kisses and grinding their bodies together desperately.

 

Kimi slips his hands under his shirt, nails following the curve of his spine as Sebastian clenches down to grab him and moans in his mouth.

 

“Do you wanna fuck?”

 

Sebastian is grinning from one ear to the other as he lightly rolls his hips to get more contact between their bodies despite the clothes they're still wearing. Kimi buries his face into the nape of his neck, breathing in his gross cheap cologne, the scent of his skin and the desire they feel for each other. He just nods, because he doesn't trust his words or his voice to come out right. 

 

He kisses Sebastian one last time before getting up, heading for the door, only to have Seb grab him and push him against the wall. Kimi blinks a couple of times, confused.

 

“Here. Lets fuck here.”

 

“Don't be fucking stupid. We can't fuck in here.”

 

But Sebastian is determined not to give in and let this go. He kisses him hard against, pressing their bodies together and trapping Kimi against the wall. They're both hard, unable to keep their hands off each other and trying to reach every peace of uncovered and sweaty skin they can.

 

“I’ll take you against this fucking wall if I have to.”

 

They look at each other for a long moment.

 

“And you always get what you want in the end, right?”

 

Sebastian doesn't bother replying: his grin is enough. He leaves a trail of kisses on Kimi's neck and collarbones before going down on his knees, adjusting in front of him, before opening up his jeans to get his cock out.

 

Kimi hisses at the contact of callous fingers against his sensitive skin: Seb's hands are warm and slippery as he pumps him a couple of times, never looking away from him, his blue eyes wide and liquid with need.

 

“You're a fucking sick little bastard.”

 

Sebastian allows Kimi to fuck his mouth with a smile on his face: he goes slowly at first, then faster and faster because he can't help himself. 

 

Because Sebastian feels so good, warm and slick around his dick, and Kimi needs it, needs this so badly it makes him want to scream.

 

He has the intense feeling of his frustration and his disappointment melting away as blood rushes through his body and cleanses his veins of all the emotions he built up during the race. And Sebastian... he's just so unbelievably perfect in this moment: so pliant, so beautiful and so stupid.

 

Looking back at all they went through together, Kimi thinks he should've known he was fucked from the very first start, because there has always been something about Sebastian he just couldn't resist, that kept pulling them closer and closer until it was too late to turn back. He tries to find reasons to regret it, but he can't, because even just the sight of him on his knees with his dick in his mouth and Kimi's fingers pulling hard at his hair is enough to make him think it was all worth it in the end.

 

Sebastian grabs his hand again, tangling their fingers together as Kimi comes in his mouth, biting down at his lips not to scream his lungs out, and the sudden relief makes him feel light and empty at the same time, like a deflated balloon Seb has just pinched with a needle.

 

Kimi doesn't give a shit about the fact that Sebastian still has his come in his mouth, kisses him like his life depends on it and holds him close to his chest, running his fingers through his hair as they wait for their breaths to calm down.


End file.
